A Cartwright son says goodbye.

Rated K  Word Count:  990

Boots in Hand

A special story

By The Tahoe Ladies

Boots in hand, Adam stepped lightly down the stairs into the dark living room. The only light came from the coals in the big fireplace so he couldn’t see me at the kitchen doorway. I watched as he stopped, sat on the hearthstones and pulled his boots on. There seemed to be a great sadness to him as he paused and stared into the waning fire. From where I stood, I could see his features, half in shadow, half in dim light. To me, he looked so old and yet so young.

“You’re going to do it, aren’t you?” I said softly. I saw the dark brows arch at the sound of my voice and the fleeting little smile he gave so rarely nowadays.

“Yes, Pa,” he said and rested his chin on his knuckles, his elbows planted firmly on his knees. “You know that I have to do this.”

“I know you do, son. I just wish it could be some other way. I need you here.” I thought that once again I could make him do what I wanted. Not what he wanted.

“We have been over this a thousand times, Pa. You agreed to let me and now I need to go. It’s time.”

I moved slowly to sit beside him, handing him the cup of coffee I had poured for myself just moments ago. He accepted it and I wondered just for a split second if that would be the last thing he ever took from me. Although I knew he hated open displays of affection, I put my arm around his broad shoulders and pulled him to my side. This was my eldest son. And my closest confidante. He held a place in my heart that no one else could ever have.

We had been through so much together, good and bad. I always wanted to throw out the bad memories but he would remind me that they were important ones too. Those horrible memories of traveling from Boston, being hungry most of the time, cold or hot the rest of the time. The memories of Inger dying before his very eyes.

“No, son,” I said quietly, letting my hand rest at the nape of his neck. “It is past time. It’s just that this sort of thing isn’t easy for me to do. I never thought of my little boy growing up and leaving me.”

“But Pa,” he said lightly and let his hand fall to my leg in the most gentlest of touches, “You still have two other little boys.” And I saw his eyes flick upward to where his two brothers still lay asleep.

“They aren’t the same, Adam. They aren’t the same.”

“No, but they need the same father I had. They need the same guidance, the same understanding. They need you to teach them the same way you did me. By being there, day in and day out.”

As he spoke, I caught the wistful sound in his deepening baritone voice. He was remembering days long past as well. Days we had spent working the Ponderosa side by side. I felt a quick rush of tears come to my eyes as I wondered if we would ever do so again.

“Adam,” I started but the emotions forming in my heart couldn’t give me words to convey themselves.

Adam set his coffee cup down on the table before us, and kneeling before me, gathered me into an embrace I would always remember. He gave me so few that each one would remain special to me. For those long moments, the edges blurred in my life and I was the child that needed comforting.

“It’s all right, Pa. I understand,” he whispered. I took his face into my hands and felt the dampness as tears fell from his dark eyes. I tried to brush them away but more fell. I didn’t tell him what was in my heart; he knew it already.

“I suppose you’re right but it doesn’t make it easier knowing that.” My own tears fell to his hand on my cheek. My heart screamed that it wasn’t “all right” but I couldn’t let him know that.

“Will you come back?” I asked, my voice shaking beyond my control now.

“In time…maybe” he answered and stood, pulling me up with him.

“What can I do to make that more definite?”

“Make men out of my brothers, the same way you did me….make the ranch grow and prosper, the same way you always have…….keep a warm spot in your heart for me, the same way you always have.” Adam turned from me and although I didn’t want to, I had to let him go.

“I will, son. You’ve shown me how.”

“And Pa, tell Hoss and Joe-” and his voice cracked but I saw his shoulders straighten and his chin lift. “–tell them I love them.”

“You’re leaving this early? Stay and tell them yourself.”

“No, if I don’t go now, I never will. It has to be this way.”

I crossed to stand behind him as he strapped on his gun and put on his coat. He paused just before he put on his hat and my heart collapsed on itself as he settled it on his dark hair. He was going.

“Pa, where ever I am, whatever I do, I want you to know one thing. I will always love you.” And lifting the door latch, he stepped through the door and closed it behind him.

I stepped to the door, intent on yanking it open and grabbing him back from the world he sought to discover. Instead, I laid my forehead against the rough wood and cried.

“Adam,” I whispered, “I love you, son.” And I heard a horse out in the yard snort once then leave.

the end…